the silver threads not terribly obvious, but there had been changes. Everyone lost that easy bloom of youth eventually.
Henry didn’t seem to have any complaints though. When he clambered up after Kit onto the bed, his grey gaze was hot with lust, lingering on the lines of Kit’s body with unabashed pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful, Christopher,” he whispered, as he caged Kit’s body with his strong arms and slowly lowered his own down, keeping most of his weight from Kit even as he allowed the whole length of their bodies to kiss.
Kit made a noise that was not quite a moan and not quite a sigh. Something of both, helpless and needy.
“You are,” he groaned.
He was saying too much, being too frank, but he couldn’t hold the words back—never had been able to with Henry.
Henry’s gaze was burning. “I want to make you feel as good as you used to make me feel when you did this for me,” he said. “I want to turn you inside out like that.”
Kit wanted to tell him he didn’t even have to try, but the words escaped him as Henry moved downwards, pulled Kit’s cock into his hot mouth again, and began to work him with patient relentlessness.
Henry pressed Kit’s thighs apart, giving attention to his tight, quivering balls, his sensitive inner thighs, the soft, wondrous flesh between his scrotum and his hole, and then—oh Christ in heaven—then, he kissed Kit’s hole.
His lips were soft and warm, and the tip of his tongue, when it delicately probed Kit’s rim, was a maddening point of delight.
Kit melted into the mattress, widening his thighs, giving Henry all the access he needed, and when Henry’s fingers brushed his hole, his groan was deep. “Yes.”
His whole body was singing with pleasure as Henry patiently penetrated him first with one finger, then a second, his mouth still teasing Kit’s sensitive rim.
Kit was only vaguely aware of time passing. No one had ever spent so much time simply giving him pleasure. He was undone, a slave to his own lust and need, torn between the desire for more of this, and the desire to topple over the edge and crash through a climax he knew would be shatteringly intense. He cried out as Henry worked his body, heedless of being overheard, demanding more.
And Henry gave him more.
He was plunging his fingers in and out of Kit’s body now, and when he lifted his head again, then bent over Kit’s groin to take his cock once more into his mouth, Kit grabbed him by the hair and thrust into his warm, clasping depths, his seed exploding from him as he cried out his release.
He came so hard, his vision greyed. Only as the final shocks of it ebbed did he realise he had Henry’s hair gripped tightly in his right fist, Henry’s head held tight against his thigh.
“Sorry,” he gasped, letting go.
Henry raised his head and blinked at Kit dazedly. He was a mess—lips swollen red and eyes wet from tearing up as Kit had fucked his face.
“Bloody hell,” Henry said hoarsely. “I’ve spent all over your bedcovers,”
Kit stared at him for a moment, then slowly grinned. “Have you?”
“I’m so sorry,” Henry muttered, his cheeks hot.
“Don’t be,” Kit replied. “I think I’m flattered.”
“Are you?” Henry breathed, blinking at him slowly. He rose up on his knees and repositioned himself over Kit, straddling Kit’s deliciously relaxed body, leaning down till their lips barely touched, and Henry’s broad, hairy chest skimmed Kit’s mostly bare one.
Kit squirmed a little, the intimacy feeling raw again, now that he’d spent and his mind had cleared. But Henry didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable. His grey gaze moved over Kit’s face hungrily.
“I can’t think why I never did that before,” he whispered. “It was glorious. Making you feel like that, watching you come apart.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t done that before,” Kit scoffed, though his voice was a little breathless. “You knew what you were doing.”
Henry’s mouth kicked up in a rueful half-smile that Kit remembered too well. He felt even more breathless seeing that smile.
“Yes, of course,” Henry said diffidently. “But not with you. And not with me—” He broke off, flushing red.
“Not with you what?” Kit asked.
“Not like that… on my knees. Serving you,” Henry whispered.
Kit blinked. “Oh,” he said slowly. “I see.”
They stared at one another for long moments, till Kit began to feel awkward. He was lying here with Henry—the man who had broken his heart so thoroughly, he had never allowed anyone